Nomad Love
by TheRuggeddomContest
Summary: Wandering around the country has been in Emmett's blood for years. Meeting new people, seeing new sights, and experiencing new adventures was his idea of life. He's left a trail of starry-eyed women behind, but will Rosalie Hale be enough to tame his nomad ways and make him fall in love?


Rating: M

Genre: Romance/Adventure

Word count: 11,035

Pairing: Emmett/Rosalie

Summary: Wandering around the country has been in Emmett's blood for years. Meeting new people, seeing new sights, and experiencing new adventures was his idea of life. He's left a trail of starry-eyed women behind, but will Rosalie Hale be enough to tame his nomad ways and make him fall in love?

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Nomad Love**

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Over the past seven years, without a car and only his thumb to hitch his way from one place to another, Emmett had good luck making his way around, seeing the country. With his kind of looks—deep set dimples, masculine, toned physique and tight Wrangler jeans covering the bottom half of his six-foot frame, he never had a problem. His charming personality added to his list of assets, and most of his rides were from the female persuasion. Emmett's thumb was never extended very long before smoking tires came to a screeching halt on a blacktop-surfaced road. The greeting he received from a more than willing driver was music to his ears. On multiple occasions, his looks got him more than just a ride to his desired direction.

Emmett loved the life of a nomad—not staying in any one place long enough to lie down roots, which suited him just fine. He was all about the journey, no relationship to tie him down, and no one to answer to. Although, three years prior, in Mississippi, there was a little brunette named Bella who tickled his fancy. She loved him in ways he'd never been loved before. Six years his senior, she showed him a thing or two in her ornate, four-poster bed. He met her in a little Podunk gas station that she owned and operated. He'd ridden as far as he could with the trucker that had given him a lift, and he just happened to find himself at Swan's Quickie Mart; looking at the help wanted bulletin board, just inside the doors.

Bella spotted Emmett, clad in a worn, sleeveless flannel shirt, unbuttoned to mid chest. It looked like the sleeves had been ripped, leaving frays of soft fibers around his broad shoulders. The second he stepped through the door, she couldn't take her eyes off him. The definition of his pecks peeked through the open shirt.

"Mornin'." Bella greeted.

"Morning." He tipped his head to Bella. She was a breath of fresh air and a sight for sore eyes. He'd just spent the last nine hours in the cab of an eighteen-wheeler, smelling fast food and farts. He inhaled her sweet vanilla perfume as it wafted toward him.

"Can I help ya?" Her eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird. She hadn't meant to be so obvious.

"You happen to know of any jobs here in town?"

"Um, I do." She smiled. "I have some odd jobs 'round here, I reckon I could hire ya." Bella winked and stuck her hand out to him. "I'm Bella, by the way."

He took her hand in his, "Nice to meet you, Miss Bella, I'm Emmett."

Bella didn't exactly know what she'd have Emmett do, but she liked what was standing in front of her, and she'd think of something real soon.

.

.

Working in Swan's Quickie Mart doing odd jobs was an opportunity for Emmett to pad his wallet, and rest his feet for a while. Bella, on the other hand, didn't mind at all watching Emmett work, fixing her kitchen pipes in a worn t-shirt that snuggly hugged his trim waist, with tight sleeves accentuating his broad shoulders and defined biceps. All this was tasty eye candy. Bella stared at him as the muscles in his arms flexed while he twisted tools around fittings making the leaky pipes right again.

The sight of Emmett made her tingle like a fizzy pop poured over ice cubes. A man in her kitchen—this man—just did things to her.

Bella leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over her body, giving her breasts a tiny lift. Her lips puckered in a small mischievous smile as she watched with hungry eyes, the boy who was working, the one that had put a spark back into her dull life.

"What'cha looking at, sweetheart?" Emmett winked, setting down the toolbox he had just retrieved from the storage room.

"Just a pretty boy in my kitchen." The southern twang of her voice was thick and sweet as molasses.

"Yeah?" Emmett looked past Bella to the front of the store making sure it was empty, and then wrapped his fingers around Bella's delicate wrist, pulling her into his hard chest. His hands caressed her back, slowly sliding over her thin cotton shirt, down to the swell of her behind. Instinctively they rocked back and forth, in a slow-dance they had perfected. Bella raised her arms, slithering her fingers through the light-brown hair at his nape. She stood on her tiptoeslooking into the depths of his eyes, silently asking for a kiss. Emmett leaned down to capture her blush-pink lips inhaling her sweet breath scented with cherries.

Fire-swathed passion ignited in Emmett's veins, making the blood-surging palpations of his heart pulsate haphazardly. Her lust-filled touches got him going. Her hands teasing the hairs on his neck, making him aware that even the slightest feel of her skin sent him reeling. Their tongues met, melding two into one. The sweet taste of the Cherry Mash candy she loved to snack on mixed with the mint from the toothpicks he chewed to keep him from smoking, made a combination he'd never forget. His stomach did flip-flops when she bit his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. Nibbling on his sensitive lips was like flipping a switch, turning him from well behaved to primal-animal.

"Mmm." He groaned. He was getting hard, and he knew he needed to put the brakes on this PDA session. If they didn't stop now, there was a chance of getting caught with her panties down at her ankles with him buried balls deep inside her. "You do all sorts of shit to me, Bella." He said, kissing her jaw, lightly biting and sucking at her neck. He loved feeling the beat of her heart under his lips.

"You turn me on, sugar." She panted; pulling him closer if that was even possible.

"We need to stop." He said, not believing an ounce of what just spilled from his heavy-breathing mouth. "Gotta stop." More kisses and nibbles, his lips now at her ear, "continue this later, Bella." One more kiss, this time on the temple where wet mists of her desire pricked her skin. He reluctantly unhooked her arms from around his neck and made a show of adjusting himself. Bella stuck out her lip, tucking a loose strand of hair from her ponytail behind her ear, giving Emmett puppy dog eyes.

"Fine, but you make it damn hard to focus on my job when I know what's hidden behind those jeans you got on." She hooked her finger in the waistband, tugging them down a bit. Emmett smiled, blowing a kiss her way. He loved her southern drawl. He knew that when the workday was done, they'd barely make it back to her place before Bella would have his jeans unbuttoned, with her mouth wrapped around his hard, thick cock.

Staying longer in Mississippi than any, other place to date wasn't what he had intended, but it had been the best, four months of his life by far. Lord have mercy, Bella was a beautiful women; captivating and intelligent and he could see the starry-eyed love reflecting back at him.

It made him nervous.

She was getting serious too quickly, and Emmett was far from letting Bella make an honest man out of him. He was barely just twenty-three. He knew she would make the perfect wife, but he wasn't ready—so he packed up and let her down easy. If it was meant to be he'd be back, and several times he thought he would turn around, but he never did.

Some would call him a loner, but he didn't see it that way at all. He still had his mother, which he checked in with twice a week, and some family scattered across the States. He even stayed with cousins, aunts and uncles from time to time. He wasn't lacking companionship especially after he rescued an abandoned Border collie on the side of the same highway he was hitching from. His four-legged friend, Diego, was always by his side from the time he left Mississippi.

Emmett swore Diego was a human reincarnate. That dog could spot a pretty lady out of a crowd, and nine times out of ten, she'd be curled up next to Emmett that very night. Poor Diego didn't completely understand why he was supposed to sleep on the floor while Emmett got to share the bed with the prize _he _had spotted. But he obeyed. A Milk Bone might have helped a little, too.

.

.

"Hey Jas." Emmett answered his cell phone. "What can I do ya for?" He looked at his watch. "At one in the morning?"

"Hey man, sorry. I've been up working on a few plans ... lost track of time. Actually ... how far away are you from Forks?"

Emmett laughed. "You miss me, coz?"

"I need one more reliable guy on my construction crew. Big job, thought I'd offer you a position."

His cousin was the owner and operator of Whitlock Construction Co. in Port Angeles, Washington. His specialty was building quality houses; he was well known in the area and booked solid with jobs. "It'd mean settling in for some time though. You up for that?"

"I could be persuaded." Emmett chuckled, answering honestly.

Right now, a pretty, little raven-haired bombshell was licking her way down his toned abs, looking up at him through thick eyelashes. Emmett held his finger up telling her to hold on, not to descend any lower while he was on the phone. She nodded and sucked her top lip in her mouth, almost bashful for being told to stop, but her hands continued to roam his chiseled torso in anticipation of what was lying underneath his faded, distressed denim. He was tan, cut, and in top physical shape. Emmett worked in the places he stayed, finding whatever was available to keep his journey alive. The jobs varied; sometimes working in restaurants, in a bar as a bouncer, but in most cases, he worked outside in construction, logging, or on farms, and that's what kept him physically fit.

He loved his life.

"I could be there in a few weeks."

The little bombshell with the silky, tan skin looked up into Emmett's vivid green eyes while a short huff of air escaped her nose. Emmett winked giving her a wry smile, running his fingers through her shoulder length hair, then skimming her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"I'm helping a fellow out on his farm, feeding and watering his horses and cattle right now. I need to give him a head's up, let him find a replacement for me."

"Are you still hitching rides?"

"Yup." Emmett threw his head back and laughed. Jasper didn't understand his cousin in the slightest. He even offered to buy Emmett a car once, and Em turned the offer down. Every time he talked with his mother, she said he had enough in the bank for transportation. Emmett always denied the help. He liked drifting to wherever the highways lead him. He'd never been disappointed, always making the best out of his life and cherishing each moment with new folks along the way.

Emmett had mostly experienced the pros of hitchhiking. The benefits far outweighed the cons of using his thumb to make it to a different destination. Many a highway rest stop had been graced with his naked ass on a picnic table while a beauty rode his cock as if he was the last man on the face of the earth. He'd even been lucky enough to be picked up in Dallas by four college girls on their way to a Spring Break getaway. He ended up in a Holiday Inn for that little romp on the wild side. He was the main attraction in the King-sized bed with four, horny girls. His stamina was second to none. Emmett would never complain about that encounter—though he'd never do it again, but it was one for the history books.

The cons he preferred to forget about. Only once was he surprised to find out that the little honey he met in a laundromat in Ohio, was a married woman. He should have paid better attention to the clothes she was washing. Anyway, he had to use his fists to get out of that debacle. Of course, the scrawny husband was no match for Emmett. He knocked him out cold, and then high-tailed it to the nearest hotel for the night until he could make it out of town unnoticed.

"Where are you anyway?"

"New Mexico." Emmett waggled his brows atthe sweet girl hovering at his waist.

"Two weeks. I'll expect you here and ready to work. We have a large home under construction, and I need ya man."

"Sounds good, Jas, see ya in a few."

With the call Emmett had taken from Jas, he now knew where he'd be living for the next six months or longer. His mother would be happy he would be around his family and staying for more than a few weeks. Emmett leaned back against the wood-planked wall that the mattress in his living quarters butted against and let his little beauty resume her path of pleasure; he would miss this one, but not as much as beautiful Bella. Alice was the farmer's daughter, and she had snuck into the barn on several occasions, usually only wearing a pair of cowgirl boots and chaps with her hair in pigtails. For being a petite gal, she was a spunky one, and she gave Emmett a run for his money.

.

.

Arriving in the Pacific Northwest made Emmett's eyes widen with awe. It was the most beautiful place he had ever seen. Green and lush, the tops of the trees framed the sky, giving some contrast to the cloudy dreariness. And although it was wet, he didn't mind, he had just come from the desert and welcomed the precipitation. Since he had arrived to town, he noticed the sun was constantly hiding behind the clouds, but that didn't deter him from wanting to stay. No, Emmett loved the cooler weather. Growing up in New York, braving bitter cold days was what he was used to, so this new location where he'd be working was perfect. It felt like home all ready, and he just arrived.

Emmett took a seat on a bench outside the Forks motel, straightening out his legs and stretching his arms. Just when he decided to go into the motel office and check in, a white Hummer rolled into the lot, and Jasper got out.

"About time you made it." Emmett ribbed his cousin. Giving Jasper a hard time, he stood up, took hold of his cousin's hand, and brought him in for a bro-hug. Emmett had a terrific sense of humor and a heart of gold, and it'd been entirely too long since the two had seen one another.

He knew his wandering cousin was full of piss and vinegar and Jasper loved it. "Now let's get you a room, and then I'll show you the house under construction."

.

.

The house was secluded in the dense, dark-green forest; you'd never find it unless you were familiar to these parts. Jasper had maneuvered the winding roads with ease as Emmett took in the foliage and landmarks. He would need to remember them in order to find his way to work on his own. Finally, a small gravel road in between a break in the trees came into view; it was the turn off to the site. For the first time in years, Emmett knew his thumb wouldn't get him to and from work. He'd need a vehicle to make it here each day.

"Where can I buy a cheap car?" Emmett asked, and then took a careful drink of his coffee, still hot and steaming in the Styrofoam cup. The boys had run across the street to the diner for the cup of Joe before heading out.

The smile on Jasper's face made Emmett's eyebrow cock in question. "Gonna give up hitchhiking?"

"If you want me at work on time, then yes."

"There's a guy I know who sells a little bit of everything; name's, Jacob Black. I'll give him a call for ya. But for the first week I'll be your personal chauffeur."

Emmett shook his head at Jasper's insistence of carting him to and fro. "You don't have time to drive my ass all over. You have a business to run, coz."

While growing up, the boys didn't get to spend much time together; their mothers were sisters and they kept the boys close with phone calls and once a year visits, which they both looked forward to. Emmett figured Jasper driving him to work was a way to make up for some of the time they had missed throughout the years.

"I'm the boss, so shut the hell up."

The house was mere bones. The inside was framed, the walls still needed to be sheet rocked, mudded and taped, but he was confident he could do the work. Emmett had done this exactthing when he helped rebuild homes in Greensburg, Kansas after the tornado had devastated the small Midwestern town.

"Sheetrock, tape and mud, you know the drill." Jasper said to Emmett as he showed him around the house.

"How big is this place anyhow?"

"Bout four thousand square feet, give or take. And that's just the main level."

"Who owns it, and what do they do for a living? I might need to rethink going to college." Emmett laughed, running his fingers through the scruff that had grown on his face, almost hiding his dimples. He hadn't had time to shave while on the road to Washington, but he liked how the whiskers felt on the pads of his fingertips and how it hid his baby face. The semi-beard made him look tough and kept him warm.

"Guy named Carlisle Cullen. He's a doctor at the local hospital here in town."

Jasper ledEmmett into the master bedroom. "He's single to boot. Don't know why he needs a house this large."

"Damn." Emmett says as he walks off toward the room across the hall and blurts over his shoulder, "This is a sweet crib though, but too big for me. I'd take a room in a barn with a pretty little woman, sharing my space any day."

"That's how you've lasted all this time out on the road, a girl in every port, huh?"

"I haven't been lonely, that's for sure."

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.

The 1985 Ford F-250 truck Emmett bought off Jacob wasn't visually in the best condition. In the past, it was Bahama blue, but presently the body was mostly rusted-out metal, patched by novice hands. Thankfully, it ran like a top and had transported him without problems to and from work for the last month.

Life was also settling in nicely at the motel, and the diner across the street was where he ate breakfast every morning, and dinner in the evenings. He liked the small town. It had grown on him. Everyone seemed to know everyone, their business included—courtesy of the old men from town who religiously gathered each morning. Emmett couldn't ignore their banter even if he tried. Sometimes his chuckling was loud enough that the conversation between the older men would stutter-stop abruptly, as their faces brimmed with embarrassment.

"Can I refill your coffee, Em?" Leah asked.

"How 'bout one to go? I need to head on out to the Cullen place."

"Sure thing, sweetie." Leah gave Emmett a wink then ran her hand down the arm of his navy, flannel shirt, his bicep flexed at her touch, and he smiled at her burnt-sienna blush. The girl was testing his willpower. In the past, Emmett had never needed to thwart off female advances, but if he gave in to Leah, now, he didn't think things would turn out in his favor. She'd end up hating him and possibly making his life hell, and he needed to eat. His extended stay in Forks was putting a damper on his love life, but he didn't need anyone complicating his stay. If he were just passing through, you had better believe he'd enjoy what Leah was offering. She had conveyed to Emmett that she was single the firstweek he started coming to the diner, and made sure she was extra attentive to his needs while serving him his meals—more so than any of her other customers. He also noticed, as time went by, the second button on her waitress uniform was conveniently left unbuttoned, showing a little more cleavage than when he first started eating his meals here.

.

.

Construction on the Cullen home was coming right along. Emmett put in full, ten to twelve hour days, as did everyone else on his crew. He did little else outside of work. Diego was also a constant fixture on the job site, which made Emmett happy. After leaving Diego behind at the motel the first few days, and coming home to chewed-up furniture, Jasper allowed Diego to accompany Emmett to the site until the interior decorator started her magic.

And speaking of the interior decorator, Emmett had heard stories. She didn't sound like anyone he'd ever be interested in from the way the others on his crew talked about her wicked ways.

"Miss Fancy-Pants, highfalutin decorator, looking down her nose at us." Embry said.

"Yeah," Seth continued. "She was all like; 'this project is taking too long. Dr. Cullen wants his home finished on schedule, and the only way that's going to happen is if you boys get busy'." Seth had his hand on his hip and his lips pursed imitating the woman.

"I'd get busy with her." Paul piped up, laughing, waggling his eyebrows.

"Dude, no way would she ever consider being with you. She probably doesn't even like sharing the same air you breathe." Seth teased.

"Fuck off, man. You don't see how she looks at me."

Laughing at the easy banter between the guys, Emmett adds, "She can't be as bad as you all make her out to be."

"Really? You can find out for yourself. She usually comes here once every couple of weeks to check in." Embry told Emmett. "So that means she'll be making her grand appearance any day now."

Emmett guffawed shaking his head. "Can't wait."

.

.

As it turned out, Emmett didn't have to wait long before the decorator made her grand entrance at the job site. His eyes were pleasantly surprised as he watched the statuesque woman walking toward him, through the massive living room, clicking her stiletto heels across the sub-flooring. She was the type of girl that made people stop what they were doing and stare. The guys were right, she was extraordinarily beautiful. Long, platinum blonde hair in loose, wavy curls, one side pinned back with a jeweled clip. Cheeks stained pink against creamy skin and lips the color of raspberries. Legs for days peeking out from under her periwinkle pencil skirt, matching her almond-shaped eyes, which were lined with long black lashes. The clearest ocean rivaled the blue-eyed beauty. Designer clothing complimented her hourglass figure; the outfit she was wearing undoubtedly cost more than the truck he was driving.

Emmett continued watching slyly from his perch high on the ladder. He was in the archway that connected the kitchen to the breakfast room, when he was hypnotized by the vision that strutted past. He slid his hammer back into his tool belt and discreetly adjusted his burgeoning cock. The woman was oblivious to his presence, although Emmett was unsure whether it was intentional or unintentional. Regardless, he was mesmerized by her ridiculous beauty, and for a fraction of a second, imagined how perfectly she'd fit underneath his responsive, muscled body, or on his arm as his date at the local bar.

Damn he was putting the cart before the horse this time.

Although Jasper and Emmett enjoyed unwinding at Harry's Bar after work, he highly doubted that this woman, clutching her Louis Vuitton clad iPad, with her holier-than-thou aura, would ever be inclined to sit back and shoot the shit like the boys. In fact, he doubted she would fit anywhere in his social setting. His cockiness still let him believe she'd still fit nicely underneath him though. So he kept that little vision behind his appraising eyes, and smirked as she walked past, swishing her hips. Emmett didn't let his desire for her vanish; instead, he descended the ladder. He was on a mission to make it happen. Emmett took a look at Diego who was lying nearby; he just lowered his head to the floor and put one paw over his eyes. Even the canine knew this broad was trouble, with a capital T.

"Not gonna point to this one, Diego?" Emmett asked, and then laughed as he ruffled the top of his pooch's head.

.

.

"This is just wonderful." By the tone of her voice it wasn't meant as a compliment, it was cynicism at its finest. "How am I supposed to decorate? These backward-ass-country-folks are slower than clerks at Neiman Marcus, on Black Friday." Emmett was amused, yet pissed with her perception of him and his co-workers. It was true, not one of them was of her social or economic status, but they were all putting in long hours, and they were upstanding people who didn't deserve this type of disrespect. Emery had painted a pretty, spot-on description of her.

Emmett stood just outside the master suite eavesdropping, while she continued to complain to someone on the other end of the phone. The decorator huffed insults and made comments about the progress or non-progress, in her opinion, of the master suite. Suddenly her bitchy-voice became muffled, though the remarks kept spilling from her berry-pink lips. Emmett knew one way to fill her mouth and shut her up, but he was afraid she might bite off his dick.

She sounded fierce.

Second thoughts about conquering the woman surfaced, making him wonder if she'd be worth his precious time.

Peeking his head around the doorjamb, Emmett noticed the light was on in the walk-in closet. Perfect, he thought. His worn-out leather, steel-toed work boots purposefully pounded in the direction of the walk-in. The words of dismay she was so readily spewing ceased when Emmett came into her view. Her eyes widened.

"Gotta go, Bree, call you when I leave." She ended the call and crossed her arms. Emmett's large form took up most of the doorway of the closet; he stood there with his thumb tucked into a loop of his tattered jeans. She tried in vain to look annoyed, but her inquisitive eyes gave her away. Emmett caught her checking him out, her eyes seeking out every inch of him, minutely stopping at his manhood. She cocked a brow and a small burst of air escaped him. He was amused, realizing that maybe his cock wasn't totally flaccid since there was something about this woman that kept him aroused.

Moving forward, Emmett extended his hand. "Good afternoon. I'm Emmett McCarty, and you are?" His voice was deep; commanding.

"Rosalie Hale." Reluctantly, she shook his hand with a grimace, and then wiped it with a tissue that was tucked inside the pocket of her vest.

"Nice to meet you. Is there a problem I can help with?" Emmett's kind green eyes were full of mirth. He wished his hand had been dirty, covered in spackle or something that had rubbed off on her, but they weren't. Actually, his hands were fairly clean; he had been doing electrical work all day.

"Yes there are problems. You and your boys better be able to rectify them, or we are all going to get our asses handed to us." Rosalie turned her back to Emmett, walking to the center of the room next to the built-in dresser. She laid down her phone, picking up her iPad.

He wanted to help her all right. Right into his bed and fuck the 'bitchy', right out of her. It'd been a while since he'd had sex, and this little firecracker was making his dick twitch. On second thought, why wait for his bed when a perfectly sturdy, handcrafted, large dresser was available?

"Dr. Cullen hired me to decorate this house, and it's behind schedule. How am I supposed to pull this together when fixtures still need to be installed, the flooring isn't complete and you all are still in the house making a mess?" Her palm was up in question. In the background, skill saws were cutting, and nails guns were attaching trim, the house was coming along nicely, but she obviously didn't agree.

"Hmm. When you put it like that, it makes sense." Emmett slowly walked toward her.

"I know it makes sense." The hand she was gesturing with was now firmly poised on her hip. Just like Seth had imitated. She laid her iPad down staring up at him, not backing down.

"No, not about the house.

"What then?" She spat, her condescending tone was starting to piss him off again, and his dick got a little harder. "What makes sense?" Her blue eyes were narrowing—questioning.

"The rumors … what the guys say about you, Rose." She froze, her lungs barely taking in air with each of his carefully placed steps. The closet was big, but there were only a few more feet until they would be boot to stiletto, and he would be encroaching in on her personal space.

"It's Rosalie, and what did 'the guys' _air quotes _say about me?"

"That you are a very,

_Step_.

Colorful

_Step._

Decorator

Rose."

He stopped just in front of her.

If he dipped his head, they'd be nose to nose. Feeling her warm breath on his throat combined with a tickle in between the V of his flannel shirt from her faux fur vest, his dick was now at full mast. He looked into her eyes briefly, and then bent his leg taking a knee to the floor, now eye level with her … well, her skirt. He thought he smelled her arousal, though maybe it was his imagination. She leaned back, her tight ass firmly pushed against the hearty oak of the dresser. Her ample chest rose as she took in deep breaths to calm herself as his eyes cascaded down her body. Emmett stayed still, letting the tension in the closet build, and when a whimper barely bubbled from Rosalie's throat, he extended his hands toward the dresser, effectively trapping her between his arms, making her gasp. The corner of Emmett's lip tugged upward satisfied with how Rose was responding to the close proximity of his body to hers. Reaching slowly for one of the knobs that lie on top of the dresser, and a screwdriver from his tool belt, his forearms brushed the curve of her hips.

"Looks like you need someone to screw ..." He paused, a cheeky smile on his face. "... This in for you." He held up a brushed nickel knob.

"Uh …" Her cheeks turned rosy red, and she straightened her spine, then cleared her throat, "yes, I do."

"Then by all means, it'll be my pleasure." Emmett sat back on his heels and secured the knob on the bottom drawer to the right of her ankle. Once it was in place, he placed the screwdriver back into his tool belt.

"Why are you stopping? There's more to do." Rosalie complained.

"Yes, there is." With his reply, he hastily gripped her hips in his hands, squeezing her soft flesh, lifting, and thensitting her on top of the dresser. Her legs closed tightly.

"What do you think you're doing?" Emmett couldn't take his eyes off the route his hands were on; slowly drifting down the length of her skirt, over her thighs to her bare, soft-shaven calves. When he got to her ankles, his calloused hands tightened, easily fitting his fingers all the way around them. Emmett stopped, looking into Rosalie's face, her lips were parted, and her eyes were rounded in surprise.

"You should sit still. Sharp objects in the vicinity." With this warning, he tugged her legs apart and reached for the cordless power drill on his hip to continue with the task she had demanded him to finish.

Rosalie tried touching her knees together in hopes Emmett wouldn't get an eyeful of what was under her skirt. Emmett shook his head. "Keep still. With a power drill between these sweet legs, I'd hate to miss my target." He nudged her knees back open with the tip of the drill bit. Rose quickly spread them, worried he'd nick her.

The shrill sound between her legs startled her. Rosalie clasped her hands over her ears to drown out the noise, closing her eyes from the embarrassment of the position she was in. Emmett was drilling the remaining holes into the wooden drawers where the knobs would go, his forearm was resting on her shin keeping her leg still. She wanted to slide off the dresser, but Emmett was in the way, and had warned her about the danger of moving.

"Let me down." She yelled over the piercing sound. Emmett momentarily took his finger off the drill trigger.

"Not yet, we have a job to complete, remember?" Emmett leaned forward, touching his nose to the shinbone in front of him. His hot breath on her skin formed goose bumps up and down her body. His tongue darted out, taking a small lick of the sweetest skin he had ever tasted. His left hand slid behind to the sensitive spot behind her knee, lightly caressing the skin.

"You've been a big help already, Rose."

"H-How?" She asked quietly.

"Trust me … you've been a _big_ help." Emmett tipped his head down pointing with his chin to his groin. Rosalie's eyes followed where he was pointing; she was mute. She had forgotten how to form all words and was taken aback at the forwardness of this man. The wetness between her legs grew more intense, and she squirmed as a trickle escaped her body.

"I might need you to hold something for me in a minute. You can't leave me now."

The insinuation made her whimper again, only this time the sound was much louder.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Emmett continued drilling, and then screwing the knobs into place. Every so often, he'd take a peek between her legs at the damp material delicately covering the place he'd most like to be. He didn't know if his dick had ever been as hard as it was now, he'd need to relieve it soon; whether by his own hand, or by the help of the pretty girl sitting above him. By the looks of it, he could have her six ways to Sunday.

A consuming, tipsy sensation swept through Rosalie, making her feel light-headed. She had the urge to grasp his hair in her fingers to steady her swaying, bring him closer to her, but as the thought occurred, a voice sounded from inside the Master-Suite.

"Em." Embry called. "Need some help in the mediaroom."

Damn it.

Emmett wanted to continue drawing out this slow torture, but he did have a job to do and Rose looked as if she were going to pass out. They had an undeniable draw to each other, and he could feel it. Emmett had brought Rose to such a high but was now leaving her wanting. This could be good. She'd want more, he was confident with the way her eyes were telling him not to leave her in the state he had put her in.

"Well, Sweet Cheeks, duty calls."

Putting his tools back inside his tool belt and adjusting his cock in plain sight, he turned and left the little pain-in-the-ass alone in the closet.

_His pain in the ass._

Rosalie couldn't stand the man who had been on his knees frustrating her. They had just met, but already he had managed to wedge his way into her space and taunt her. Make her believe he wanted her. She hated that she was drawn to his deep-set dimples covered in scruff—it pissed her off. God they were cute, lickable even. And the way he walked into the closet demanding her attention caught her off guard, and then left her wanting; it was infuriating. She should have kicked him in the groin with the toe of her Manolo Blahniks when he dropped down in front of her. Watching Emmett slowly take a knee, unapologetically undressing her with his eyes, did things to her. She imagined what it would be like if he were lowering himself in front of her in the heat of passion. The thought making her eyes flutter. The vibe she got from this man made her want to spread her legs wider than they had been previously and let him take her.

Prickles of desire emerged from her too-warm skin.

She wasn't interested.

Or was she?

Rose was above falling for the type of man that got his hands dirty and wiped sweat with his forearm while working.

"I'm leaving, and this needs to be done by the time I come back." She yelled at his retreating backside.

"And if it's not?" Emmett teased over his shoulder.

"Not only will you have to answer to Mr. Cullen, you'll have to answer to me, too."

Emmett stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face Rosalie. "Promises, promises, Rose," he said while scratching his whiskered chin. "Let's both hope the work isn't done." He winked, sending a zing straight to the throbbing bundle of heat between her legs. "Cause I'd sure like a taste of what you've just offered me."

"In your dreams."

"I'm sure you will be," he teased.

In this line of work, she was mostly around people of her social status. Rose dated older, wealthier men, though it had been a while. Maybe she was just horny, common sense taking a back seat to sensibility, making her crave a man covered in flannel, denim, dirt and sweat.

Rose made it to her Mercedes GLK and quickly seated herself inside. Her hands were shaking, so she gripped the steering wheel tighter. Her heart pounded wildly, making it hard to catch that breath she so desperately needed while she was inside the closet with _him._

What Rose was experiencing wasn't a panic attack, it was something much stronger, and it scared the shit out of her.

The realization that she might want Emmett McCarty pissed her off tremendously.

.

.

While Emmett physically helped Embry in the media room, his mind was lost in the master closet. In all the years Emmett had been traveling the United States, Rosalie Hale was the first woman to get under his skin in an irritating, cock-arousing fashion. He wanted to spank her ass, kiss her, and then fuck her stupid. Then spank her again for being such a pain in the ass. No wonder the guys felt the way they did about the decorator. She was pissy, mouthy, and downright beautiful. This woman would be the death of him if he let her. Telling the guys that he had the decorator pinned—so to speak—to the dresser earlier wasn't going to happen. But all he could think about was Rose, her delicious scent lingering in his nose.

Flowers and sex.

Her beautiful eyes—when not shooting daggers at him—her long legs spread, wet panties and promises of him having to answer to her made him hard again. He was going to keep his little encounter on the down-low and hope he had the opportunity to do it again. Next time, he'd seal the deal.

The next few days Emmett was consumed with finishing the Cullen house. Whitlock Construction was on a time constraint and needed to be finished and packed-up within the next few months. The bossy decorator, of whom Emmett had been having all-consuming thoughts of ever since the connection in the closet, also demanded the completion of their work. Each time he entered said master closet to work, images of Rose on top of the dresser made him pause, almost forgetting what he had entered the closet for in the first place. He'd stop, look around as if the interior walls would tell him the next thing on his to-do list, but they didn't. Instead, Emmett ran his hand over the smooth oak of the dresser reliving his moment between Rose's sweet legs. The oak slab was retelling the story with each pass over the varnished surfaced. Emmett even dropped to his knees in hopes he could recreate the scene.

Smell her.

Feel the softness of her legs.

See the dampness of silky panties barely covering her.

He dreamt of being there again. The reaction he received from Rose with just the tips of his fingers made him both light-headed and full of himself. He had no doubts that she wouldn't resist him in the future; it was just a matter of when.

Emmett had an almost non-stop hard-on since Rose left the premises a few days prior. Each night after work when he made his way back to his temporary home, he took care of himself in the shower as the hot, soothing spray hit his shoulders. His hand gripped tightly around his cock imagining it was Rose giving him pleasure.

"Yeah baby, that's it. Stroke it," Emmett muttered, his hand slowly sliding over the wet, sensitive skin. With eyes closed and his head tipped back in pleasure, he voiced with precise detail, exactly what he wanted the image of the voluptuous woman in his head to do to him.

How he wanted it done.

"Massage my balls, Rose." Emmett took his balls in his other hand, rolling them and tugging slightly as the hand on his cock moved with vigor. "Mmm, yeah," he moaned. He was hard-up if he were talking and directing himself how to beat-off, but in this moment he didn't give two shits. With each stroke, he cared less about the fact that it was his own hand. He had pent-up sexual needs and no one as of right now to help the situation. He knew Leah was across the street working tonight, but he'd be damned if he'd crumble and call in her offer of a good time. So he kept up the steady rhythm of his hand, swiping his thumb over the tip of his engorged cock.

Out of breath and on the edge of his release, his lower abs and balls tightened as his climax took hold. Emmett imagined it was Rose's fingers pumping the thick sprays of cum against the dingy grout of the motel shower. The back of his head hit the tile, and he kept it there as he recovered and cursed the fact that he was once again, in fact alone … having had to jack himself off.

"The fuck … This shit's not right," he complained while he scooped water in his hand throwing it towards the tilewhere his spunk had landed. For a moment, he wondered how many men before him stood in his same place, lonely, rubbing one out and then rinsing the sad evidence away. That thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickly grabbed the bottle of body wash and finished his shower.

There was a knock at the door as he stepped out of the shower, cool beads of water dripping down from the hair on his head and face. With the white towel low slung and wrapped tightly around his waist, he sauntered to the door to answer.

"Hey dude." Jasper pushed at the door walking inside before Emmett could utter a word.

"What up, man?"

"You, me ... We're going out." Jasper smiled. "I'm taking you to Port Angeles, to a club; I'm tired of the little hole in the wall bar we've been frequenting."

"Need a wingman?" Emmett smirked and turned around, dropping the wet towel from his waist to a heap on the floor, pulling a pair of boxers up his thick thighs.

"Not as much as you need a good fuck."

"I'm glad you're keeping tabs on my dick." Emmett grabbed his manhood heartily in his hand, "and you think you can hook a brotha up?" He rolled on his deodorant and continued to dress.

"I don't think. I know."

Emmett shook his head, "not interested."

"The man who got more pussy than the average Joe Blow in the last seven years, and who is now in a drought is declining a little help in the hookup department?" Jasper picked up a bottle of vodka from the nightstand putting his lips on the cool glass and taking a swig. He continued his harassment, "what'd your dick fall off?"

A loud forceful laugh bellowed from deep within Emmett, "I'm concerned that you're concerned a little too much about my dick. Where's that sweet girl Bree you've been shacking up with?" Emmett asked as he pulled on the nicest pair of jeans he owned. They were worn in all the right places and fit him like a glove. Tight on his ass and thighs; hugging the bulge in the front.

"Actually, she's out with friends, and they're meeting us there. Now put on a shirt."

The rickety dresser that housed his meager clothing selection creaked as the drawer slid forward. WD40 would take care of that, he thought, pulling out the grey and black, plaid flannel shirt. It was the only one clean and without holes.

Jasper eyed Emmett as he buttoned up his shirt.

"What? It's all I've got. Flannel and more flannel." Emmett shrugged. He didn't give a fuck about Bree's friends. He wasn't agreeing to go out to get laid, he was going for a change of pace. Emmett had his sights set on Rose, and until he satisfied his craving, he didn't want anyone else.

.

.

Flannel, denim and cowboy boots contrasted with the silk dress shirts, slacks, polished leather shoes, cocktail dresses and fuck-me heels in the club. Emmett wasn't the least bit concerned and neither was Jasper—even though Jas fit right in. Emmett's presence was noticed; his tall, confident, all wilderness look, got him some attention as they enteredthe swanky club in the heart of Port Angeles.

After paying to get in, Jasper's phone alerted him to an incoming text, which he read quickly.

"Bree and her friends are here already. Let's grab some drinks at the bar first, bro."

Emmett nodded and made his way through the throngs of patrons. A few women turned, watching the guys as they passed. A pretty redhead caught Emmett's eye offering him a hello in a cat-like purr. He gave her a wink and kept on going. She was friendly enough he thought, but he wasn't here to pick up anyone.

"What can I get ya?" The bartender asked, tossing a coaster towards Emmett.

"Sam Adams, please."

"And for you?" He looks at Jasper.

"Same." Jasper answered, looking at his phone and finishing a text. He clasped Emmett on the shoulder, motioning with his head toward the crowd. "Some fine ladies here tonight, don't ya think?"

"Yep, glad you dragged me out." Emmett tossed some cash on the bar, handing Jasper his beer then taking a drink from the amber bottle in his hand. He loved how the first swallow always burned a sweet path down his throat.

"Thanks man." Jasper held his bottle up, "let's find the girls."

Following Jas to the booth where Bree and her two friends sat, Emmett introduced himself to all three and took a seat at the end next to Emily, the dark haired one with deep dark eyes.

"We have another friend coming, but she running late," said Bree, kissing Jasper on the cheek, and nuzzling into his side. Jasper's arm rested easily around her shoulder.

.

.

One of Emmett's favorite things to do was watching people. He didn't mean to be rude, but his attention was on everything else but the table where he was seated. He ordered another beer and drank it, imagining that if he hadn't been so fixated on Rose, he'd be out on the dance floor showing the ladies a few of his moves, and leaving at the end of the night with one tucked under his arm.

His mind drifted again to the object taking over his every thought as of late.

_Rose._

As if in sync with his tingling cock, an image more beautiful than he could have imagined appeared in his line of vision, walking toward him.

Almost choking on his beer, he wondered if it was just his imagination.

"Rosie!" Bree, Emily, and Leah greeted almost in unison.

"Hi g-girls." She stuttered when she noticed Emmett. Her heart began to beat erratically, so she turned her back to him.

"Hi Jas." Rosalie smiled as Jasper stood, giving her a peck on the cheek.

Emmett was already standing, his eyes locked on the back of Rose's head, and the little dress she was wearing. She was effectively ignoring his presence.

"This is my cousin, Emmett." Jasper motioned with his hand. "And this is Rosie Hale."

Emmett held out his hand hoping Rose would grace him with her touch. He had missed the feel of her soft skin; he craved her. But she didn't, she sat down, ignoring his hand, so he tucked it in his pocket and pulled out a toothpick and began to chew.

"Nice to meet you, Rosie," A small smile threatened Emmett's lips.

She was a sassy one.

With a tight smile she muttered, "it's Rosalie ... likewise."

She was mortified.

This was the guy that sent her into a tizzy. He touched her; he looked up her skirt making her feel like a wanton floozy, and then left her breathless.

He offered, "Can I get you a drink ... Rosie?"

After a small shrug of her shoulder and a few seconds of contemplation, she answered, "Chardonnay, please." She was just as affected by his presence trying to cover up all the delicious thoughts that surely showed on her pretty face.

"So, you're Jasper's, cousin." She tried to sound nonchalant when he returned with her wine and another Sam Adams for himself. It wasn't a question just a realization.

"In the flesh." He set the glass of white wine down,then taking a seat, this time right next to her.

She took a sip of her wine, blue eyes looking over the edge of her glass at the man staring into them, "the one that never settles down in one place?"

"That'd be me."

"You just helping out Jas, and then leaving again?" Rose didn't know why she cared to know, but she did.

Emmett took a drink of his beer holding it in his mouth for a second—wondering if she cared— before swallowing.

"Depends."

"On if you ever get the job finished?" She half teased.

Laughing now, Emmett responded, "I'm dragging my feet 'cause a certain decorator has promised me something I just might want … if the job isn't completed soon, that is."

"Not happening, Romeo."

_Please take your sweet time. _Her inner whore screamed_._

"How about a dance? We can sort through the details."

Rose thought about it. The song had changed to something slow, and she had missed his touch, it was all she managed to think about the remainder of the week.

"One dance."

Standing first, Emmett held his hand out to Rose like a gentleman—helping her out of her seat. The black mini dress hugging her body left little to his imagination. Her toned thighs were shimmering under the dim light of the club. Her hand felt as if it were made for his. When she placed her hand in his palm, a warming sensation ran through him.

Emmett found an open spot on the edge of the darkened dance floor. The smile on his face showed how happy he was finally to have Rose in his arms.

"Come 'mere." He brought her closer by pulling on her hand, and she smiled sweetly. He brought her to his chest, holding her tight, with one hand on the small of her back.

She pulled away slightly. "I'm not easy,"

"Neither am I." Emmett cupped her cheek in his strong hand. His calloused thumb lightly skimmed her temple in time with the slow sway of the music. "In fact, I'm quite hard right now." The toothpick in the corner of his mouth twitched as he pressed himself into her stomach, so she knew exactly what he meant. The same pull she had felt when she was pinned in the closet with Emmett, returned.

"Personal problem?"

This man was everything she avoided, didn't need, but wanted so desperately.

"On the contrary, I think it's your problem." Emmett burrowed his body into the sweet scent of Rose—into her curves. His bulky arms wrapped tightly around her small waist, lifting her up, so they were eye to eye, connecting from within, "and I'm gonna need your help to fix it."

A breath she had been holding blew into his face, and he breathed her in. It was his own personal drug. She intoxicated him.

Rosalie realized she hadn't refused his offer when he set her back on her feet while curling his fingers between hers, leading her toward the exit. The song kept playing on.

"We can't leave." She protested, although not meaning what she said.

He stopped just short of the door leading outside into the cool darkness, gently pulling her chin up with his finger. "Tell me the truth Rose, if you don't wanna go, we won't. But I can't guarantee my fingers won't be knuckle deep in your sweet pussy while you continue to sip on your Chardonnay."

A quivering sigh escaped her lips.

With a cocky wink, "That's what I thought; now let's get the fuck out of here."

Rose took Emmett at his word, imagining him exploring her soft, warm, wet center. Pumping his fingers deeply into her body while they sat amongst their friends, made her legs go weak. But not weak enough that she couldn't make it to her car and drive them both to her condo.

.

.

"Better text our friends and tell them we left." Emmett said as he nibbled her neck while she drove.

"I don't text and drive," she whimpered as his fingers made soft passes over the top of her thigh."

"Wanna make out and drive?" Tall, built and sexy teased as his tongue licked at the corner of her lips.

"You're going to make me wreck." She pushed at his chest settling him back into his seat.

"I want to taste you, and I can't wait..." his hand was back on her thigh, this time sliding slowly under the dark fabric of her dress. She didn't stop him. His nimble fingers moving toward her panties, finding them damp. "And it feels like you can't either." Placing another kiss on her neck, he demanded, "Pull over."

"What? No…" She lost concentration and the Mercedes swerved a bit toward the guardrailon the side of the highway.

"Whoa." Emmett took hold of the steering wheel to steady Rose's hands. "I'd rather not end up in a body bag. I'd much prefer ending up in your body instead. So pull over." He slowly released the wheel, putting his hand back onto her heated thigh. "Tell you what. I'll keep my hands to myself, but you have five minutes to get us parked; otherwise, I won't be responsible for my actions." He whispered in her ear, "and Rosie, this is serious … I'm about to explode."

"Emmett…" her chest was heaving; she was trying to concentrate on the road and on the delicious anticipation of sex with this man. "Don't stop, just touch me. I'll pull over."

Emmett sat back into his seat, keeping his hands to himself as promised. "As much as I'd like to sweet cheeks, I'm not going to endanger you or me. So make it snappy."

Rose noticed out of the corner of her eye, his hand rubbing slightly on his jean-covered bulge. Her concentration was off; the distraction of this man fighting to keep his shit together did things to her. Naughty things.

The only place she knew of within a five-minute window from where they were was a park right off the highway. She made her decision, turning on her blinker, crossing two lanes of traffic. The park would be dark and cold, but he had given her an ultimatum, and she was doing everything in her power to abide by it.

She parked her car at the far side of the lot, almost hidden behind a row of trees. She barely got it into park before Emmett's hands were back on her.

"Perfect." Emmett leaned into Rose, turning her head with his fingers, then holding her face with the palm of his hand, "I've been thinking of you all week, baby." He placed a soft kiss on her parted lips; his eyes never leaving hers.

"You have?" The slow sultry nod was all she needed to reciprocate his kiss. Her lips melded to his.

He was delicious.

Minty

Musky

All man

Her undoing.

"You've been fucked so many times in my head that you can't walk straight."

Her moan filling the car gave him the response he needed to take this a step further. Opening up his door, exiting into the cool night, he rounded the car and opened up the driver's door.

"Back seat."

Images of backseat car-sex, gave Rose a heady feeling. She was frozen, stuck in the leather of luxury where she was seated. Emmett reached in the car, unfastening her seatbelt.

"Or you can lean this seat back. Either way I can't wait to get my hands on you … so make a decision." The toothpick he loved to chew twitched in his mouth, a sign that he was amused. His green eyes darkened in the moonlight, waiting on her answer. He took the toothpick out of his mouth throwing it to the ground and took Rose by the arm, bringing her to his chest. "Or I can fuck you against the car. What's it gonna be ... A, B, or C, Rosie?"

Rose crashed her lips to his. She had never been this turned on, ever—and never by someone like Emmett. Her nipples were cold, hard, aroused, and rubbing at his solid, flannel-covered chest. She barely felt the freezing temperature outside with his body heat pressed against her. His hands roamed down her body, and over her hips. He was losing control, and he needed her now. His fingers gripped her hips, rocking his cock into her.

"I choose all of the above," she replied, breathless.

With a smile that lit up his face, he said, "That's my girl."

His tongue explored her mouth.

Tangled.

Giving and taking.

Tasting.

Her hands in his hair.

Pulling.

Wanting.

Pleading.

Emmett reached for the handle to the back door opening it slowly. "Get in. I need to warm you up."

Moving to the back seat, Rose climbed in, scooting over to make room for Emmett. She wondered how this would work, he was huge, and she was tall, but he seemed to know what he was doing.

His lips trailed to her jaw, nipping, kissing; whispering in her ear, "Straddle me."

The way Emmett told her what to do was sexy as hell; she shivered knowing that she'd do anything he said.

"You're freezing."

"You'll warm me up." Her teeth clattered.

"That I will." His hands rubbed up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her much too-cool skin. Goose bumps littered her body, so his focus first was to get her comfortable.

"I'm going to turn up the heater." When he bent forward, she was smashed in between the back of the seat and his body. She giggled at his insistence to warm her.

"It'll be a sauna in here." She said through her teeth as her jaw quivered coldly, clinking her teeth together.

"That's my plan." His hands were back on her arms, his lips in the crook of her neck. "I want you in nothing but these fuck-me heels, and if I have to sweat my ass off to get us to that point. I'll suffer with pleasure." He said in between kissing and touching her bare shoulders.

Surprising both Emmett and herself, she reached for the hem of her dress pulling it up and over her head leaving her in nothing except her black lace, G-string panties.

"I think I've died and gone to Heaven." Emmett said. His eyes lusting over her body as his hands firmly grasped her ass cheeks, pulling her closer to him. Rose was working on the buttons of his shirt as he devoured her with his lips. She felt his large hands cover her breasts, lifting and squeezing them together. Emmett's thumbs teased her dusty pink nipples, and then his kiss-swollen lips took turns with his thumbs, sucking, gently biting. The tip of his cock, nearly coming out of the waistband of his well-worn jeans, pressed hard in between her thighs. Rose needed to feel him. She moved her hips in slow circles earning a low groan from Emmett.

With her fingers in his hair, she kissed both of his soft, whisker-covered dimples. "I love these." Rose admitted. She let her tongue lick along the line of his beard until she got to his ear. "They're sexy as hell." Her hips never stopped moving, her body pressed and wiggled against him.

He loved the way she looked gyrating, her silky hair cascading around her shoulders as she gave him one hell of a lap dance.

"These have to go." Emmett took the lace G-string in his hands and ripped them easily from her body. His fingers slid down the front of her belly, to find her clean-shaven; spreading her with his fingers.

"I've dreamt of this for days." His middle finger circled her slick entrance, pushing in. Rose reached down touching her clit, circling it as his finger pushed deeper inside of her. His hand stilled at the feeling of her walls tight around his finger. The warmth was incredible. He inserted another finger stretching her, and a moan fell from her lips. Again, his hand stilled, relishing in the fact that he was inside the woman of his dreams.

Literally.

"Fuck me Emmett, you bastard. Don't you dare leave me hanging again." Rose was not about to be left at the precipice of an orgasm. This man had infuriated her once, getting her worked up and then leaving her hot and bothered, and she wasn't going to let him do that to her again.

With his free hand, he gripped thehair at the nape of her neck, bringing her to him, looking dead in her eyes. "I'll fuck you so good baby, you'll forget your name." And with that, his fingers pumped in and out until she was begging to come. He curled his fingers, pressing on her G-spot knowing it would send her toppling over the edge.

"That's it." He coaxed, her orgasm was nearly there, and he could feel it, feel her clamping down around his fingers. "Grab my cock." Rose's hands fumbled with his jeans until his cock sprung free. Rose took it in her hand, soft against hard, sliding with a quick motion, matching the same rhythm of Emmett's hand.

"Em ... Emmett. Don't stop—Right there." Rose's eyes fluttered as intense feelings of tingling fury erupted inside her. "Ahhh ... Oh. My. God." His lips covered hers, kissing, muffling the sound of her orgasm. She could have awakened the dead in the throes of her passion, he thought. Rose relaxed her body into his tense frame still giving Emmett's dick her full attention.

"Almost baby, almost." Emmett's head fell back against the leather seat. Rose's hands knew exactly how to make him come. Her thumb grazed his tip with every other pass up his length,spreading the slickness over his shaft. Emmett was enjoying every second in this steamy hot paradise, given the heat in the car was now almost unbearable. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and chest, a slick sheen glistening over both their bodies. The windows in the car were now fully fogged, creatinga curtain; shutting them off to the outside world. The car rocked back and forth with activity, the inside smelling of sex.

"I'm coming, Rosie." A loud moaned filtered through the car, making Rose smile with satisfaction. She loved the feel of his cum in her hand, hitting her belly, fusing them together.

Sticky and sweet.

Emmett wrapped his arms around Rose pulling her down into the seat on top of him. Legs bent and tangled, feet on windows and cramped behind the seats. Her hand trapped between them and his hands in her hair, and on her plump ass.

After catching their breath, and cleaning off with his flannel, Rose whispered in Emmett's ear.

"I'm ready for options B and C," she said with a smirk.

A giant grin tugged on Emmett's face, making his deep dimples visible through his scruff.

Right then and there, in the sweltering heat of the car, under the moonlight, in a random park in Port Angeles, Washington, Emmett knew he had met his match.

The person who could make him change his nomad ways.

The person who could finally make him stay in one place.

The person who could both settle, and satisfy him.

Rosie.

* * *

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